Sincerely Yours, Bonnie & Clyde
by b4tmans
Summary: Forming a relationship with the extremely introverted, empathy-filled, dog-lover is going to be anything but easy. I suppose it's good thing Genevieve Forde is up for a challenge. Series of one-shots focused around a Will/OC relationship, may contain spoilers!
1. I

**_Crisp Pages & Cold Ink_**

* * *

**T**he first time he saw her, he knew she was unique.

She was settled in the mystery section, her nose pressed into a book written by an author whose name meant nothing to him, fingers carefully treading amongst the plots and the twists of the paperback. She held the book with such grace; such gentility.

It was as if a dog eared page was the antagonist to her very _own _story.

William Graham's doed-eyed expression met her own as his hip sudden collided with the _Summer's Best-Sellers _table, sending a few stacks of books tumbling downward with fluttering wings. The young woman laughed softly as Will quickly shuffled away, cursing his own stupidity.

The second time her saw her, he knew she was real and that he hadn't imagined her the first time.

She was nestled into a corner, grasping a crisp version of a crime thriller that was, no doubt, a new purchase. He could tell by the content look on her slim face and the way her thick framed glasses were perched on her cute nose, smattered with soft freckles. The woman, flicking the page, seemed safe wrapped in her own story of death and murder and crime and killing and—

He took a deep breath, sighing. _He was doing it again._ _That... staring thing._

William Graham turned his pale blue eyes to his own book, one _far _into the depth's of fiction. One not about death and murder and crime and killing.

The third time _she _saw _him, _she had concluded he _had _been watching her.

He had was posed comfortably at the café, hunched over a cup of coffee and a book about dogs. The spine was what had given it away, bearing some clever pun about dog-breeds and a cute mug-shot of a sheltie. His eyes were clearly jumping from word to word, and occasionally, his hand would wander up and grasp the edge of his coffee mug.

He would sip, swallow, glance up at the clock, and return to the book.

Genevieve Forde pressed her glasses back and fixed her posture.

Part of her secretly hoped he liked crime novels.

The fourth time she saw him, she decided she wanted to know his name.

The fourth time he saw her, he decided he wanted to know her name too.

But, the fifth time they had spotted one another at the bookshop, Will guessed it was fate or something ridiculous that clueless romantics (unlike himself) believed in and prayed for and made wishes on shooting stars about.

He had woken up that particular Monday morning with the intentions arriving at the café early (in order to beat the early-bookworm special), finishing his book on dog-sheltering, perhaps grabbing a cup of coffee and then heading out the door, continuing on with his day.

That stupid thing called _destiny_ had other plans, he supposed.

He had slept through his alarm, woken up an hour late, found a mess in the kitchen (courtesy of Winston and his love of garbage), and pulled his favorite pair of pants from the drier only to find they had been plagued by the ever-so horrid stains of a blue ball-point pen.

On the other side of town, Genevieve was not having anymore luck.

This Monday had been the product of a bad night's sleep (thanks to that _idiotic _horror movie marathon) and the rather poor idea to wake up nice and early. Her kitten Freddy had kitty-barfed on her cardigan, her shower ran out of warm water _much _faster than normal, and Gen was convinced her walls were being haunted by the ghost of a woman who was murdered three doors down circa 1867.

(In reality, it was just the leaky pipes battering angrily against the framework of the apartment's walls. Genevieve was just being far too paranoid, no thanks to the _Exorcist_.)

But, both grinned (or in Will's case, _scoffed_) and bore with it. As luck would have it, both arrived at the Corner Bookshop around the same time only to realize they _hadn't _beaten the dreaded rush.

The smell of crisp pages and cold ink was mingling with the stench of hazelnut coffee and sweet confectionary goodies, driving Will insane. The Special Agent scooted through the chaos of the small cafe, navigating to the back corner where he had spotted an open seat.

Minutes prior, Genevieve had done the same, squirming under the gaze of a young girl who was enjoying her muffin _far too much. _Pretending not to notice, Genevieve tucked a carmel strand behind her ear and opened her book.

However, the story of Whitey Bulger and his Winter Hill Gang was interrupted by the clearing of a throat.

Gen froze.

"Uh."

"Hi."

"Is..." the man, the one she had been watching and the one who had been watching her, pointed to the seat across from her. He swallowed. "—Is this open?"

Gen offered a polite smile. "Yeah, go ahead. Knock yourself out. This place is _packed._"

It was in this moment that Will Graham realized he _wanted _to be normal and regular and sauve and capable of handling the pressure of social norms and—

He cleared his throat.

"Normally, I'm here earlier," he offered, settling in opposite from her, "But, this morning's been anything but _cooperative._"

A soft laugh left her mouth, and she nodded, softly placing her book beside her coffee. "Tell me about it. I can't tell you how accurately that describes my own morning."

Will gave a small chuckle. His green-eyes searched for something to look at, anything but her _eyes. _That's when he spotted her book.

"I'd never take you for the organized crime type of girl..."

Gen blushed. "Guilty pleasure, I guess. It's exciting. I've always liked the whole mobster thing... Early exposure to The Untouchables," she continued, "I guess that'll do it to a girl."

Will laughed, nodding.

Her eyes flicked to his own book. She fixed her glasses, tilting her head. "Dog-lover?"

"An understatement," Will mused, hands clasping in his lap, "I... uh, _adopt_, I guess. More like shelter... But, permanent."

Gen gave a sweet smile. "Strays?"

Will only nodded, a content smile flitting across his own features. He suddenly went rigid. "My apologies. I'm being rude."

His strong calloused hand reached out to meet her own soft one.

"Will Graham."

He made eye contact. He smiled.

"Genevieve Forde. It's lovely to meet you, Will."

She blinked up at him, blushing.

And that was the beginning of it all.

* * *

**A/N:**

**So, this all _really _started because I noticed a lack of Will/OC stories and I definitely like reading that sort of thing. Anywho, I decided _since I'm only on episode 3 _that it would be fun to write about Will evolving outside of his job and trying to manage a healthy relationship. I'm so excited to write awkward and uncomfy Will. It's gunna be fun!**

**Any ideas for a drabble? Leave a word or idea in a review and maybe I'll write a little something about it!**

**Read & Review! That makes for a happy author!**


	2. II

**Mama & Papa**

* * *

**I**t makes him happy; the way she curls up beside the dog-pack on the old carpet, her curls stretched and tugged by little paws and lapping tongues; the way she reads to them, her words meeting perked ears and panting tummies.

It all reminds him of some pure thing, bathed in white and swathed in a warm sensation. He knew it once, when he was little.

Perched on the couch, his blue eyes watch as Genevieve rolls around with Winston, shrieking playfully. The dog yips, exciting more laughter from Gen; and when the dog leans forward and hops, egging her on, she points and sits up, her hair a mess.

"Did you see that?" she laughed, "Did you?"

He gives a small laugh and nods, enjoying the curve of her smile and the babble of her laugh. Will places his book on the couch cushion, sliding to the carpet. He's met with the tongue of Winston, who's suddenly extremely happy to have more company.

It's been two and a half months since Will first spoke to Genevieve.

They'd become so close; time in the cafe turned into long walks in the local park. Walks in the park became following one another home. Following one another home became following one another to bed.

Though, they hadn't done anything. Or one another. No, it was just... Sweet. Touches and embraces that made his ears grow hot. He liked being close to her. He liked knowing that she cherished the same feeling he did.

"Winston is so handsome," she mumbled, her fingers curling into the dog's soft fur, "I bet his papa is jealous."

Will paused, his gaze vaulting over the rim of his glasses. "Did you just refer to me as papa?"

Gen, tugging her knees close, nodded. "You're his papa. Master is far too... creepy."

Will hummed, nodding in agreement. "Papa, then. I do believe that makes you mama."

"Mama."

"Yes, mama."

And he kissed her cheek.

Gen simply smiled.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Just a quick one! These one-shots will jump around a bit. I've gotta few up my sleeve... Just say the word, and you can have more fluff, mis amigos. ;3**

**Read & Review! It makes for a happy author!**


	3. III

**Summer & ****Sandwiches**

* * *

**W**ill's fingers softly tug at caramel curls, exciting a soft laugh out of the woman who is nestled safely into his chest. Genevieve's own hands have bunched into his shirt, fiddling and tugging and kneading the fabric, all to graze touches against the warm skin beneath the cotton.

The sky is blue; bluer than he's ever seen it. There isn't a cloud in sight. But, there is a soft breeze, brushing against his skin and tickling his nose. There is some shade dancing across his face and eyelashes, creating dar patterns in the shape of maple-leaves. And then there's Gen, who is grinning up at him with big eyes.

He's content with her next to him like this, with the dogs running about in the background of the scenery.

Will is especially contented when Gen's her right hand drifts to his abdomen, her teal nails ghosting across the fabric, patting the muscles there. He shudders and shakes with joy, sighing. Her hands toy with his own brunette curls before she exhales at the quiet sound of a grumbling stomach.

Gen kisses his chin, his neck, and his collarbone all before sitting up and stretching for the sky, balancing precariously on the hammock.

She's so catlike, he muses, in the way she arches and leans.

Gen shuffles off the hammock, leaving Will swinging in the summer breeze, his book tucked under his right arm and glasses perched upon his nose.

"You want something to eat, Will?"

He blinks. "Yes. That'd be lovely."

He has to tear his eyes away from her slim legs that have become miles long in that sundress. She notices, blushing quietly.

"Come on, loverboy. Quit ooglin'. You're gunna help."

His chest heaves in a happy manner when he remembers how true that is. All those coffee shop dates... They had paid off.

He follows her into the kitchen like a lost puppy, chasing her about and hugging her close. Her Will is being uncharacteristically romantic, but Genevieve doesn't mind. Winston, the newest member to the dog-pack, barks at Gen's excited squeals and Will laughs.

"You're freaking him out, Gen."

"Says you," she musters, her lips dancing against the stubble of his cheek, "Troublemaker. All I wanted was to make a nice tuna sandwich. But, no. William Graham had other plans."

"Other plans?" he asks, swaying softly, "No. This was my plan all along."

With one kiss to her shoulder, the sandwich is forgotten.


	4. IV

**Reunited**

* * *

He was a mess. Gen had never seem Will in such a tattered state and it terrified her. The bags under his eyes were darker than the warm coffee nestled between her hands.

He looked as if he hasn't slept in days.

He had just returned from a case out in Minnesota; one that had dragged him away from his Genevieve for three weeks. It hadn't been planned and Will had felt horrible, but Gen simply nodded in an understanding fashion and kissed his nose and told him to be very careful.

He missed her terribly.

He curled up, most nights, reaching out for curls to play with yet finding nothing but the cold material of the sheets beside him.

He woke up from horrible nightmares, expecting her to be there to kiss and to soothe him yet the only thing in the room was his own sweat-soaked form.

So, when he stalked through the front door to find her curled up on the couch _waiting for him_, he couldn't find any reasonable way to express his heartache. So, Will simply smiled and dropped his bags, shuffling into the living room.

Gen's head turned, blinking bright eyes crinkling into a smile when she saw him.

The dogs, now awake and aware of someone else's presence in the house, barreled down the steps and barked at Will, excited cries escaping all of their snouts.

Exhausted, Will collapsed onto the floor amongst the puppy scramble, kissing and petting each dog in a loving manner. His smile was small, but it only grew when Gen piped up from above him: "I don't get a kiss?"

Clambering to his feet, Will reached for her hand and squeezed, breathing a small: "I missed you so much", before blinking away sadness and nestling his face into the crook of her shoulder. Gen whined, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging as tight as she could. Will reciprocated, his strong arms tightening around her waist.

"I love you," Will muttered into her hair, "It was hard. I— I did not manage well without your company."

A laugh passed between Gen's pink lips. "It was hard sleeping alone."

Will, feeling a surge of warmth and happiness combined with the fact _Gen understood him_, planted a firm kiss on her forehead before hauling her up into his arms.

Gen squealed. "Will! What are you doing?!"

She was laughing now, her legs wrapped around his waist as he hauled her up the rickety old stairs of the townhouse. They were being followed by the ticker of paws on wood floor, the dogs full aware of how happy their _mama and papa_ were to be back together again.

Will set her down on their queen sized bed softly, kissing her head before ditching his coat and boots and flannel and jeans.

Gen watched with a small smile. She never realized how much she missed the way he hopped around and kicked his shoes in the corner; she never realized how much she missed the face he made when he was trying to focus on his jeans' zipper.

Gen was just glad her Will was back.

Crawling over to where he was seated on the edge of the bed, Gen's fingers crawled up his spine, tracing patterns up and down the muscles there, exciting a small moan out of Will. Softly kissing the base of his neck, Gen rolled her hands around his shoulders, working at the warm skin. She spidered her hands across his muscles, grinning slightly as he tensed.

"A m-massage?"

Gen only kissed his neck again, and Will sighed happily.

She let her nails graze the skin carefully, making Will hiss in pleasure. She giggled quietly, scratching as Will shrugged and moved to her touch.

Hugging his bare waist, she kissed his back again, and muttered. "I love you. I'm so glad you're back. I missed you so damn much. The dogs were so upset, Will. Winston cried and _cried._"

The dog mentioned perked up from his spot on the rug, barking. "Yes! You cried! You did, Winston! You missed your _papa_!"

A low chuckle escaped Will's chest, rumbling and meeting Gen's core. She rested her chin in his shoulder, watching the dogs scramble around Will's legs. They all swarmed, wanting attention from the man they loved the most.

There was a comfortable silence and Gen nearly fell asleep there: pressed flush against Will, hugging him close.

Will slowly grasped her hands and brought one to his lips, grazing her knuckles against his mouth in a chaste kiss. "Your turn."

Gen blinked up at him, surprised when he rolled her onto her back. His own warm hands grazed up and down her cotton t-shirt, every now and then a finger would poke under and steal a graze of skin.

She loved the feel of his hands on her. He was so gentle, always afraid she'd break. The way his fingers pulled away her shirt so he could kiss her shoulders with no refrain made her shine with happiness and it made her remember that he loved _her_.

He snuck his hands beneath her shirt again, lifting the material away so he could kiss more bare skin and elicit more sounds out of the woman curled into the sheets. Every coo and sigh and quake made his heart soar.

When his fingers crept up her soft sides, however, her squirmed.

"Will!" she bellowed, "No! No tickling!"

He didn't listen, his fingers danced and tugged along the skin of her sides and she rolled, screaming in delight. She pleaded with her boyfriend, screeching in happiness as his fingers dove to her lower stomach, grazing against the flesh there.

She screeched, laughing into his arms and curling up against him, shaking.

"Please!"

He halted, smiling triumphantly at his girlfriend.

A playful punch was shot into his arm. "Ass."

She lowered herself back down in front of him, stretching for the headboard. Will grunted tiredly, following her example and laying beside her. One hand found hers and their fingers knitted together; all while Will wrapped his arms around her waist and curled her close.

The dogs saw their opportunity to ambush and suddenly there were six panting dogs swarmed around the cuddling couple. Gen giggled softly into Will's chest, watching him with a small curiosity. She was quiet, squeezing his hand and kissing his knuckles.

Softing whispering, she asked: "Did you catch the bad guy?"

Will swallowed before nodding, eyes closed. "Yeah. We caught the bad guy."

"Good," she mumbled, pressing her face against his chest, "That's my boy."

And with that, the reunited family fell asleep together for the first time in months.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Boy, that was fluffy. There are probably a good ton of mistakes in there. It was something I wrote in my notes on my phone and I tried to edit the best I could! Anyways, thank you all for the _great_ support! Honestly! I'm so glad you all love Gen and Will as much as me. ;3; Anywho, I had a little idea some of you could help me with...**

**Leave one word in a review (for example: "warmth" or "anger") and I'll write a drabble about Will and Gen surrounding it!**


	5. Jealousy

**" Jealousy "**

_requested by **Avis11**, **Azalia Fox Knightling**, **amy**, & **Guest**_

* * *

**W**illiam and Genevieve were both the type to become jealous very easily. It was a product of multiple factors, the first being lack of self-confidence.

Will was convinced he was your average run of the mill guy, with a typical face and bad hair. Will thought even less of his physique and there were times when the man found himself wondering why Gen was even so in love in the first place.

Gen, on the other hand, was convinced she was in the below average percentile when it came to looks. She hated her tangled hair and the way she was far too short for any jeans to fit her properly. Gen asked herself why Will loved her far too often.

Both had admitted that jealousy was a strong flaw, though there were times when it was considered a damn fine strength.

In Gen's case, her source of jealousy was _Alana Bloom_.

Gen had seen the way the beautiful psychiatrist watched Will, with those big eyes and pretty face and perfect _fucking_ hair—

Swallowing her wine, Gen had to remind herself she was at a dinner party and not in an arena. She couldn't fight the woman. Not over Hannibal's finely set dining room table and the pork roast sitting pretty in the middle.

That didn't stop her from stabbing her salad with more menace than before.

And the worst part? Will gave in. Will listened and watched and made eye contact. There was something there, Gen knew, and it broke her heart.

"Your lectures are wonderful, Will," Alana gushed, "You're a good teacher."

"Oh, please," Will mumbled. The dark haired man swallowed quickly, shaking his head am waving his fork, "I barely teach. I talk at them. They take notes. That's how it is."

"And it works."

"_Debatable_."

Alana laughed at that, a sound that was almost as pretty as she was.

Gen made a face and began contemplating her own laugh. _Was it too loud? Too obnoxious?_

Maybe she was just being dramatic. Or maybe it was growing jealousy that was knotting itself in her chest when Will laughed at one of her stupid jokes.

_I hope you choke on your beer, Alana. What kind of name is Alana, anyways? And_—

"So, Genevieve," the sultry voice that spoke out to her was not Alana Bloom's, but belonged to none other than Hannibal Lecter.

In Will's case, his source of jealousy was _Hannibal Lecter_.

He could never look as good as that man did in a suit, he couldn't cook five star meals and he certainly wasn't as wealthy as his well-to-do psychiatrist. Will knew Hannibal was a far more attractive man.

It was that damn exotic air he held about him.

"Do tell us about your own profession," he paused, chewing. Dark eyes flicked over his girlfriend like a predator surveyed a prey, "Will has mentioned something about it being your dream to open a bookshop."

Will's blue eyes rolled to the woman beside him, dressed in a beautiful gown with her caramel tresses swept up into an intricate braid.

He swallowed, his chest tightening as a smile tugged at her face. She flashed it Hannibal's way, giving a slight laugh.

"A dream, yeah," she offered, nodding slightly, "I just work at the local library for now, though."

Will gave her a small smile. If she did ever leave him, it would be for a good story. He knew that much.

"A library," Hannibal hummed, "I have no met many women who hold books so dear to their hearts as you, Genevieve. Intelligence is something I find extremely attractive. I am sure Will is in the same boat as me."

"Please, call me Gen," she laughed softly, "Only my mom calls me Genevieve."

"And I am certainly not your mother," his smile was flirtatious if anything.

Will scowled when Gen returned the gesture, batting those damn lashes his way.

Hannibal was far too cultured and his home was far too big and his suits fit far too well—

* * *

"You're mad."

The tension between the two during the car ride home was unbelievable. It was clear Will was upset.

This jaw was taut and his gaze was fixed forward; knuckles were white as they gripped the steering wheel and he hadn't uttered a word.

The only sound between them was the static crackle of the radio.

"Mad isn't the word I would use."

He didn't even look at her when he replied. Instead, he accelerated down the empty road in a fit of anger.

"Oh, really?"

Silence fell between them again as they pulled up to an intersection.

The light was red, though the roads joining were as empty as the rest of Wolftrap at this ungodly hour in the night.

Without a given warning, Will threw the car into park.

"You were flirting with him."

Gen's face twisted into confusion. "... What?"

"You were flirting with Doctor Lecter," Will scowled, his eyes glued to the red light, "I know what you do when you flirt. You smile like that. You blink and laugh and— He would never love you like I do. He... He would spoil you with expensive things and that is not what love is—"

"William, look at me."

He swallowed thickly and turned, blue eyes meeting her dark ones. Gen reached up, fixing his glasses before sighing heavily.

"Hannibal Lecter is too... _exotic_, " she mumbled. Will blinked once, exhaling a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Exotic."

"He's so... refined," Gen offered, "I don't like it. You're perfect. You're smart and handsome and _normal_."

Will let his hands slide from the steering wheel, drifting down the leather.

"I was just trying to be polite, Will," Gen huffed, "I would never flirt with your own physiatrist."

Will gave a small chuckle. "That would make for an interesting affair."

Gen's frown faltered and she snorted. "It's like something out of one of those bad romance novels."

Will paused when Gen's gaze turned back out the window. "There's something else. Something is upsetting you."

Will's voice was quiet and low; he was testing the waters.

When his hand reached for her own, Gen blinked at the calloused digits. She squeezed softly, rubbing her own hand against his.

"I... It's just— You never laugh at jokes. You don't laugh at my jokes, anyways. You chuckle. You don't laugh."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You laughed at _her _jokes, Will."

"Alana's?"

She made a sour face.

Will sighed heavily. "Genevieve, look at me."

She raised her chocolate eyes slowly, thick lashes blinking tiredly up at him.

"She loves you," Gen scowled, "She flirts with you and you fall for it. 'Oh, _Will_! You're so _great_!'"

Her voice rose an octave and she shrieked. "She's stupid! With her hair and brain and beer! A-And what kind of name is _Alana_? That's a stupid name! It's so... stupid! Just like her and her _fucking _PhD!"

Will winced as his girlfriend's voice rose sharply.

There was a pregnant silence and Will simply watched Gen look out the window, a heavy scowl set on her freckled face.

"You finished?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

Will sighed. "I love Genevieve Forde. I don't _love _Alana Bloom."

"I sure hope so."

"Gen," his tone was low, "_Please_."

* * *

The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

They had made their way inside, let the dogs out before changing out of their formal wear. Gen's pumps were tossed into the corner and her gown was hung up back on the closet door. Bare feet padded against the hardwood floor as she made her way to the dresser, searching for a comfortable t-shirt.

When warm hands ghosted across her back, she jumped at the surprising sensation of calloused hands dancing against her spine.

"Jesus, Will," she breathed, "You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry."

There was a kiss placed against her shoulder. The tickle of his breath ghosted across her bare shoulders and she hummed softly, forgetting her sore feelings for the professor. Will made it incredibly difficult to stay angry, especially the way he rocked her back and forth, whispering things to her.

"I apologize if I made you angry," Will kissed the shell of her ear, "Alana is a friend. Nothing more. Genevieve Forde, however—"

He gave her neck a hot kiss, "She's beautiful and bold and she's the most wonderful woman I have ever met and she doesn't _need _a PhD to be the most intelligent woman in my life."

Laughing softly, Gen squirmed. "You know, you make it incredibly difficult to stay mad at you."

"Oops."

She laughed again, tugging her shirt over her head. Kissing his cheek quickly, Gen shuffled over to their bed.

"You let the puppies out?"

"They're hardly puppies, Gen," Will muttered, folding his glasses and placing them beside the lamp, "Tracks is almost nine years old."

"Eh, he acts like a puppy."

Nestling beneath the covers, Gen squirmed closer to Will. Her leg drifted over his middle, her arm draped across his chest, her hand clutching his hand. Will snuggled closer, his face pressed into her sweet smelling hair, his hand slowly tracing designs on her back.

He loved being like this. Gen did too. It made her feel safe and it made him feel loved. He knew the nightmares wouldn't come as long as Gen was there to fight them away.

"I'm sorry I get so jealous."

"I'm sorry I get jealous, too."

"I love you?"

"I love you more."

With one final kiss to the top of her head, Will clicked off the lamp.

"Doubt it."

* * *

**A/N:**

**SO MANY OF YOU WANTED 'JEALOUSY'. MY GOODNESS. I HOPE THIS SATISFIES YOUR NEEDS. This is one of the longest chapters yet! Next up is we have 'frantic', 'frustrations' and 'nightmares & comfort'. Why don't y'all leave me some more? ;3**

******Leave one word in a review (for example: "warmth" or "anger") and I'll write a drabble about Will and Gen surrounding it!**


	6. Frustration (rated M)

**" Frustration "**

_requested by __**EpicCritic** & **Guest**_

**THE FOLLOWING CHAPTER IS RATED M FOR SEXUAL THEMES**

* * *

**S**he felt like an idiot.

A _scandalously _clad idiot; outfitted in a lacy bra, fancy panties and black heels that were far too high for her own liking. Gen was standing (she felt like a newborn baby giraffe) in front of the bathroom mirror, eyeing herself with slight worry. She turned, glancing at her behind with a surprised look. _Damn, my ass looks good..._

She paused, drawing attention to her face. She had re-done her makeup to match her 'outfit' (which was a piss-poor choice of a word for the two pieces of lace clinging to her), and was suddenly unimpressed with the way it made her look.

"I look like a total _whore_."

And so she wiped the black makeup away from her eyes, remembering the time Will told her she was beautiful without tons of makeup on. Next she tugged at her stringy caramel colored tresses, slightly worried they would get in the way. Will _did _like to kiss and bite her neck... Sweeping the locks into her hand and twisting, she pulled the hair into a messy bun, smiling slightly knowing Will was going to have a ball wreaking havoc on the soft skin there.

Gen huffed, throwing open the cabinet above the toilet in search of her perfume.

"Gen?"

She jumped, knocking over Will's aftershave and a bottle of mouthwash. There was a loud clang and _thud_, followed by a series of swears.

Outside the bathroom door, Will cringed. "Gen, are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah! Yes! Mhm! I'm fine! Just knocked something over, that's all!"

"You've been in there for a bit, Gen... Should I start worrying now or in a few more minutes?"

Gen had left him to clean up the dishes after the one-year-anniversary dinner she had cooked (comprised of Will's favorite foods: lasagna and and spaghetti). She had been acting extremely nervous during dinner, stealing glances at him and refusing to tell him what had her so worked up. It was starting to make _him _nervous. So, fifteen minutes after she skirted upstairs into their bedroom, Will followed suit.

"No! Just, uh, sit on the bed! I'll be out in a second, okay?"

Blinking and nodding, Will did as he was told.

And that's when he noticed the Victoria's Secret bag poking out of the closet.

"Oh my god," Will blinked, "She's... Okay."

Trying to calm his accelerated heart rate, Will sprang to his feet. He was pacing, running a hand through his hair nervously.

He and Gen had never...

Not _officially. _

"Gen?" his voice was far too shaky for his own liking.

Inside the bathroom, Gen was fumbling with her perfume. It was Will's favorite, one she wore on special occasions. She figured this was special enough—

"Gen," Will breathed, "I know you like taking your time with everything, but..."

Gen blinked, opening the door slowly.

"I'm starting to get frustrated—"

He had his back turned and he was midstep. But, as soon as he heard the door open he froze. His shoulders tensed and he swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing furiously. He turned slowly, his gaze meeting Gen's awkward pose in the bathroom doorway.

After a few seconds, her arms fell from the frame and she crossed her arms, suddenly feeling ridiculous. "Okay, this is totally not how I planned this to work."

He crossed the bedroom, his eyes roaming over every bit of skin exposed. A small chuckle nervously sprang from his throat as his hand went to his hair, tugging on the dark curls.

"Jesus, Gen," he breathed.

Flushed, she wrapped her arms around herself even tighter. "I can't tell if that's a good 'Jesus, Gen' or a bad 'Jesus, Gen'."

"It's good," he nodded, offering a hand, "It's amazingly good."

She took his hand and stumbled a bit, squeaking slightly. Will gave her a smile, pulling her close in one smooth tug. Pressed up against him, she sighed. At least this way she didn't have to worry about him thinking she was fat or—

"Y-You're a goddess."

Did... did Will just stutter? Was he... _blushing_? Oh my god, he was nervous. As nervous as she was...

"You're wearing that perfume..."

His nose grazed against her throat in an achingly slow movement, his lips brushing warm skin, causing goosebumps to pucker and erupt all over her arms. Dragging his teeth across her collarbone in a playful bite, Will let a chuckle rumble from his chest.

"I know y-you like it," she swallowed, "It's your favorite."

His hands met her hips, squeezing the flesh there, clutching and grabbing. "You only wear it on special occasions..."

"I was thinking..."

A sweltering kiss, one complete with Will's tongue dancing across hers, was enough to answer the unspoken question.

_Was tonight going to be the night?_

_Oh, hell yes._

He grasped her lip in his teeth, tugging on the sweet skin and soothing her whines with more heated contact. Her arms were hooked around his neck, fingers in his hair, when they landed on the bed. Will was pressed against her, his fingers diving across warm skin, and hot kisses littering her neck and chest.

His hands gripped the sheets with no remorse, breathy moans escaping her when his tongue danced across her cleavage and his hands dove beneath her panty-line.

"Will," she mumbled into his shoulder, gasping into the material of his shirt.

"Hm?" his mouth was suctioned to her jaw, nipping and kissing along the bone.

"Your clothes. Off. _Now._"

"_Bossy_."

His tone was low and dark and it almost made Gen scream the way it was coupled with the workings of his fingers against her.

His t-shirt was tugged over his head and he squirmed out of his jeans, only to have Gen prop herself on top of his lap, her murder heels dangling dangerously off the edge of the bed. One hand pressed against his chest, laying him flat against the sheets. She grinned in triumph, kissing her way down his neck and chest, enjoying the way he groaned in pleasure when she _accidentally _rolled her hips against the growing tension in his boxers.

Third time's the charm, and Will completely lost it. The cotton boxers were kicked away.

He flipped her over, tugging her bra away and discarding of it off the side of the bed. Warm hands grasped her breasts, kneading as his mouth danced down her stomach, a trail of sloppy kisses stopping just above her pantyline.

With one tug, the lacy undergarments were tossed aside by the bra on the floor.

Arching slightly, Gen whined softly and buried her face into own arm, blushing scarlet.

Will's hands ran up her stomach and breasts, his mouth meeting hers again.

"I love you. You're so beautiful."

"I love you too, handsome," she smiled.

And like that, her whole body was hot. She was a writhing mess, crying out in pleasure at the tingling sensation that was overwhelming her senses. With every thrust, she was clawing at the sheets; at Will; at her hair; at his hair. She was in heaven, butterflies assaulting her insides with kisses and touches.

And then, they were one. Kissing, moaning and rocking together in a unanimous sensation. A sensation that left Will an exhausted mess. He swallowed, catching his breath before kissing Gen sweetly, climbing onto the bed beside her.

She rolled into his arms, burying her face into his shoulder before propping herself up against him. Her smile was huge.

"That..." Her breath was gone, "... was amazingly good."

Will kissed her nose. "We will be doing that more often."

Gen giggled, pulling the sheets up over them. In a tired buzz, she nodded, tugging her hair out of the messy bun.

"Oh, _hell yes_."

* * *

**A/N:**

**IT WAS BOUND TO HAPPEN SOONER OR LATER. I HOPE YOU GUYS DON'T MIND.**


	7. Nightmares & Comfort

**" Nightmares & Comfort "**

_requested by **Kira**** Tsumi**  
_

* * *

It had almost become routine.

The tremors, violent shakes that could measure with their own magnitude, would wake her.

Genevieve would stir softly, her head lurching upwards as the form on the bed beside her quivered violently.

Will shook to her right, legs kicking and arms shaking out of a dark fear that had taken over his subconscious. The man was drenched in a cold sweat, brunette curls plastered to his forehead.

These were the most terrifying nights for Gen. She feared for him, shaking his shoulder and calling out sharply.

"Will," she screeched as he trembled, "Will, sweetie, it's a dream. It's all a bad dream."

That's when his blue eyes would shoot open and his breaths would become as sporadic and panicked as his actions.

She would smile softly then, a smile that was drenched in relief and reassurance.

"You're okay, Will," she would kiss his sweat drenched head, "It was a nightmare."

Gen sighed, shaking her head softly. She helped him peel the sweat drenched shirt over his head, her hands massaging the exposed skin of his stomach in the tender manner that always seemed to calm him down after a nightmare.

She would whisper soft things to him, cradling his head in her lap, her fingers knotted themselves in his curls. Will would calm down after a few minutes, his breathing becoming regular and relaxed with each tender kiss planted in his mess of bed head.

Her humming of some old doo-wop song became his white noise; it became his life jacket in a sea of horrors.

Gen possessed a patience that stirred a warm feeling in him; it made him feel loved and cared for... emotions he didn't often experience. Will couldn't thank her enough. No amount of touches or hugs or kisses or thank you's would surmount to the duties she had taken up when she committed herself to him.

"_Goin' to the chapel and we're gonna get married. Gee, I really love you and we're gonna get married. Goin' to the chapel of love_."

Her voice was just above a whisper, her lips dancing across his forehead as they laid together. Will couldn't help but chuckle, admiring her song choice. Her fingers worked at his curls as his head rested in her lap. Gen busied herself with intricate twirls and tender kisses, humming softly.

When Will finally calmed, his fingers would weaved between hers as he moved her to his lap. Gen stirred against his chest, her long legs draping across his. Warm calloused hands drifted up and down the stretch of her calves, causing goosebumps to erupt along her arms and shoulders.

Will smiled proudly at the reaction, letting his ministrations venture further to her thighs, his head ducking to her shoulder.

"Thank you," his lips danced across the freckled skin of her arms, "I'm sorry. I can't help the nightmares."

Gen only nodded, her hand squeezing his. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," he pecked her lips, sighing.

Gen only hugged him close. "You've got me. I'm not leaving."

"Please," he muttered, "Never."

"_Whooooa, I'll be his and he'll be mine. We'll love until, the end of time and we'll never be lonely anymore_," she whispered, brushing her nose against his.

Will gave a smile, swallowing before picking up the small lullaby. "_Because we're goin' to the chapel and we're gonna get married_."

Gen just hugged him close and Will clung. The two knotted themselves in one another's arms; kisses were exchanged, and hearts seemed to beat together as one. It was then that Will knew she would never leave.

Gen was his, and he was hers.

* * *

**A/N:**

**The song Gen and Will are singing is Chapel of Love by The Dixie Cups! I honestly love that song and I feel like Gen and Will can totally work that. Sorry this one is so short!**


	8. Frantic

**" Frantic "**

_requested by **Nefarious Paramour**_

* * *

**H**e had done it again.

He had let his mind slip.

Will had let himself drift into madness.

Gen knew the moment she stepped into the house that _something was not right._

The door had been ajar, letting cold winter air fleet into the cottage. What would have normally been a warm and comfortable atmosphere had turned into a cold, dark place.

Setting the groceries on the counter, Gen swallowed thickly before calling his name throughout the house, hoping to quell the rising terror in her chest. She checked the fridge and counter for a note, yet found nothing.

He isn't here.

Stalking into the basement, she flicked the lights on and was greeted by the electric hum of the overhead lamps. She glanced around, finding no sign of Will.

She hurried up the stairs and locked the basement door behind her, ushering the dogs close to the fire before rubbing her face in worry. Winston was circling her legs now, whining angrily in the direction of the window, barking every now and then.

"I'll be back, Winston," she muttered, "I'll check around the house."

Scooting out the front door, Gen hurried around the property. Her boots crunched lightly through the freshly fallen snow that had iced over through the day. The temperature had dipped below freezing, and with an early setting sun looming, Gen felt panic tug at her chest.

"Will! God damn it!" She called out to the open clearing, "_Will_!"

She was greeted by silence.

Checking the hammock that swung lonely in the backyard and then rounding the house once more, she poked her head into his car. It was empty.

Glancing at her watch, the hands read 4:30 PM.

Wetting chapped lips, Gen knew the sun would be setting soon.

And so she hauled herself back into the house before grabbing Will's flashlight, a pair of knit gloves, a heavy coat and a warm hat. Quickly snatching Winston's leash from the hanger by the door, she whistled to him, knotting her fingers in his fur.

"Do you know where he is, Winston?" Gen pleaded with the handsome dog before his tongue lashed out at her face, catching her chin, "We have to find him, Winston."

She grabbed her keys, throwing them in her pocket before setting out the front door.

Sun was already beginning to dip beneath the tree-line, spreading its cold hues throughout the sky. Flakes of snow were tangling themselves in her thick lashes, kissing her cheeks every time she blinked.

His name was a frantic mantra on her lips.

Winston had tugged her towards the outer edge of the property, his nose stuck to the ground in a desperate attempt to smell his papa. The crunch of twigs and shifts of leaves beneath Gen's feet warned her of the dangerous territory she was lurking into.

The woods.

That's when she spotted the tracks.

A smile broke across her face for a single moment. "Good boy, Winst'. C'mon. Let's find your papa."

The footprints in the frozen snow where sloppy, as if Will had been stumbling blindly; as if he had been running from something. Swallowing the fear that crept up her throat, Gen hollered his name once more and was met with the dead silence of the woods.

The trees were beginning to become thicker and her breath more visible with the drop of the sun. Winston tugged her along, sniffing a nearby tree before stopping in his tracks and turning to glance up at his mama.

His face said, "_Are you sure, mama? Are you sure you want to go into the woods with me? It's almost dark, mama. We could get lost like papa_."

"It's okay, Winston. I promise."

And the turned his nose back to the cold earth, tugging her along.

The footsteps had began to become bloody.

Her eyes scanned every inch of the woods possible, her head bobbing around trees and eyes snapping to the sound of breaking twigs. Winston's tan ears would perk up every now and then and his head would rear, causing Gen to freeze.

There would be more silence, and then they would continue.

* * *

It was 5:33 PM when Will's tracks suddenly stopped.

"No," Gen muttered, "No, Will. No, please."

Her flashlight was flicked on, the sun having set moments ago. They had ventured so far into the woods, Gen could no longer see the glow of the house from where she was and she began to worry that _she _wouldn't be able to make it back.

Winston barked, a low growl rumbling from his chest.

Gen's eyes snapped forward.

She was met with darkness as her flashlight suddenly died with a sad flicker. Blinking, the woman shook the flashlight, suddenly remembering why it was on Will's work bench in the first place.

"_The battery life is horrible," Will scowled, "Lasted me not even thirty minutes."_

"Oh no, no, no."

Winston barked again, the sound filled with a warning sound, one that was threatening anything that lurked in the dark.

Gen swallowed, her eyes dilating.

"What's there, Winston?"

There was a heavy silence, and then the loud breaking of twigs. Fast, hard, like a night terror had come alive and was barreling towards her. Gen screamed, tugging Winston away from the beast as it barreled past her and dashed into the trees. Eyes wide and heart pumping, she scrambled to pick herself up from the ground.

It was a stag, with soft velvet antlers and hot breath.

She was locked in a staring contest with the beast.

Suddenly, it's head turned and it sauntered forward. When Gen didn't follow, the beast gave a big huff, it's hoffs scraping across the leafy ground. Timidly, Gen took a step forward. The stag seemed satisfied with this development and continued on, it's tall antlers curling majestically in the light of the moon.

Winston was quiet by her side, panting slightly as she led him through the woods, following the stag.

She didn't know how long she followed it for, or for how long it simply led her about, but she knew it was trying to help. She knew _it _knew where Will was.

_She knew it was the stag from his nightmares._

Suddenly, the large beast froze, it's ears perking upwards at the sound of a voice.

"_Gen!_"

Her head snapped to the right.

"_Will?_"

Blinking and turning back, her face fell when she realized the stag was gone.

Winston yipped, oblivious to his mama's confusion, yanked himself and Gen through the woods and closer to the voice that had cried out in the first place.

"_Will_!" Gen shrieked, "Will, _where are you_?!"

He stumbled out from behind an oak tree, her face raw with cold. His nose was cherry red and his body was quivering, no thanks to the t-shirt and boxers adorning his body. She swallowed quickly, frantically rushing to him and tearing her coat off of her body.

"Jesus, William," she snapped, "What the _fuck_? _You _gave me a damn _heart attack._ I thought I lost you. I thought I wouldn't find you."

Yanking her gloves from her hands, she quickly helped him place them on his bloody feet; they had been cut-up from running through the icy snow.

"I-I lost time."

Gen inhaled sharply, pulling her hat from her head and placing atop his own.

"C'mon, Will," she rubbed his hand, "Let's go home. It's late."

Winston yipped happily, weaving his way between his Papa's legs, trying to share body heat.

"I'm cold."

"And the house is warm."

* * *

Once inside, she ushered Will to the tub, turning on the water and letting the steaming hot liquid fill the pearly white bath. Will stumbled in, wincing sharply at the weight that was put on his feet. She ushered him to the side of the tub, motioning for him to sit before she kissed his forehead.

"I'm sorry I yelled. You scared me, Will."

"I'm sorry," his voice was hoarse, "I had no intention of doing so."

Giving a soft smile, she ran her fingers through his hair before placing a chaste kiss on his nose. "Get in the tub. You need to warm up."

Will blinked up at her, dark bags under his eyes seeming darker than ever.

"What? Will, it will make you feel better, I promise."

"Can you come in with me?"

Gen paused, pushing off the doorway and smiling slightly. "If that will make you feel better."

The curly haired man gave a tired smile, nodding with closed eyes. He stood slowly, wincing every now and then, before making his way to her and kissing her cheek. "Thank you."

She helped him ditch his soaked cotton t-shirt and boxers, gently ushering him into the steaming pool of water. A laugh escaped her when he hissed and groaned before chiding: "It's hot."

"Does it feel good?"

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Gen lazily dumped a bit of bath soap into the water, smiling slightly as the bubbles began to build beneath the running water. She slipped off her jeans and t-shirt, splashing a bit of water Will's way when he stared. Gen dashed her fingers beneath the faucet and was happy with the temperature, so she quickly stripped down to nothing before stepping into the water and slipping closer to Will.

Two strong arms were wrapped around her waist, tugging her close. There was a kiss planted in her soapy hair, one that made Gen beam. She let her head loll back, resting against Will's shoulder. She swallowed, quirking a brow.

"What happened, Will?"

Will shrugged, making her head bounce. His mouth met her neck and a soft kiss was placed against her throat. "I lost time."

Gen whined slightly, sitting up and swallowing. "It's been getting worse, Will."

His blue eyes watched her, falling slightly when she frowned. "I... It's so difficult to control. It's like a switch, Gen. I find something that reminds me of darkness and it takes over."

Her soapy fingers curled into his hair, playing with the strands. "We should go and see a doctor."

"I am _seeing _a Doctor."

"A _health _doctor, Will," Gen sighed, "Not Hannibal Lecter."

He blinked, swallowing and nodding.

"Can we talk about it in the morning?"

Gen searched his eyes before she broke her facade and nodded quickly. "Yes, Of course we can."

Pressing his face into her hair, Will kissed the caramel tresses again. He felt himself exhale as Gen turned in his arms, nestling closer and resting her cheek on his chest.

Gen let out a content sigh, listening to his heart beat.

Will's fingers danced across the damp skin of her shoulder as she knotted her legs with his, her stomach pressed flush against his own. Her fingers pressed against the muscle of his bicep, nails dancing across the flesh there.

They fell into a comfortable silence.

"Will?"

"Hm."

"I saw a stag," she muttered, "Like the one you always mention."

Will's response was delayed, partially because of the panic building in his chest. Gen's voice faltered.

"I was so panicked; so _frantic_... I don't even know if it was_ real _or not. But, it led me to you. I followed it and I _found you_."

Will swallowed. "I sure hope I'm not driving you _insane._"

Gen only gave a nervous laugh.

"I do too."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Longest one yet! I hope you all like bath time! I'm _thinking _about doing 'Proposal' next... But hmm... I've got so many words to drabble about... What do you guys think? Do you wanna little bit of marriage? I could always make it awkward and fluffy... Or maybe I could do Will meeting Gen's parents? So many possibilities. Tell me what you guys think!  
**

**Oh, and yeah, the tenses suck ass. I'm trying, people. I'm trying.**


	9. V

_**Chilly & Cranky**_

* * *

**G**enevieve sluggishly huffed as Will shooed her up the stairs, throwing jests at her sagging posture and lack of energy.

She whined loudly as Will lead her to their bed, sitting her down at the edge and kneeling in front of her, gently grasping her right foot and wiggling her boot off. He did the same to her left foot before tugging wool socks from both and tossing them to the corner. Warm fingers splayed across her knees, sending tendrils of comfort shooting up her frame.

The woman gave a cranky moan, rubbing her legs in a desperate attempt to get warm.

"C'mon," Will mustered, helping her stand, "Up ya' go."

Gen sighed tiredly as Will maneuvered her out of her vest and coat, warm hands working skillfully at zippers. Strong arms heaved her sweatshirt over her head before discarding it by her socks. Once said and done with, a rather sour scowl was lurking on Gen's features. Will's hands went to her carmel locks, smoothing down her hair before kissing her forehead.

"C'mon, Gen," he laughed, "Work with me here."

His arms encircled her waist and two firm kisses were planted on each shoulder before Will went to work at her jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping the boot cut Levi's. Gen gave a little wiggle, causing him to smile as she stepped out of the pants.

Clad in only her bra and underwear, she was being pushed to her breaking point. Will _knew _she was cranky and tired and cold and she wanted to _kill him_. The FBI Agent simply smiled blissfully before Gen shivered slightly and whined. "I'm cold."

"Alright, alright," Will sighed. He scrambled to their dresser and he quickly tugged out a large cotton shirt of his and a pair of Gen's plaid sleeping shorts.

He helped her into them, hugging and kissing the exhausted woman in bliss. Now content and fully clothed, Gen scrambled for the mattress hell bent on making it her safe haven in a nest of blankets and pillows that smelt like the man she loved. Once she was warm, Gen wiggled her toes and inhaled happily, smiling up at him through half-lids.

"God," he mused, "I've never seen you so tired."

"Get in bed."

It wasn't a request. It was a demand. She had been out all night with the dogs, watched the stars with Will and then had a _long _trek back home in which she nearly _froze during. _She **was **tired.

Will rolled his eyes, setting his glasses down on the nightstand. He ditched his own jeans and plaid shirt, changing into boxers and a cotton t-shirt much like Gen's. Will lurched towards her on the bed, tucking his feet beneath the covers and smiling happily when his girlfriend's warm legs found his.

She quickly scooted up beside him, pressed flush to his side. Will wrapped a strong arm around her, leaning over to click the light off with one fluid motion. His mouth met hers again and the kiss they shared was sweet and quick and tender; the kind that made his head spin and her heart beat.

"I love you," she mumbled into his chest, her words vibrating through the cotton fabric of his shirt. Gen's curly mess of hair became a source of entertainment, Will's hands twirling and fiddling with the strands. She sighed happily.

"I love you too, Gen," he mumbled, "Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

With one last kiss, they shut their eyes and drifted to sleep.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Have you ever been so cold and tired you just wanna kill everything?**

**AKA me, 24/7, dudes.**

**Anyways, here's a little something to hold you sweethearts over until 'proposal'...**


	10. Hannibal the Cannibal

" **Hannibal the Cannibal "**

_requested by __**guest**_

* * *

**H**e reminded her of an exotic breed of fox, wide eyes following her every movement and teeth sharpened to strike. When his voice scathed out from his vocal chords, there was an ever-so delicate accent mingling in with the syllables. With a pressed suit and a proper crossing of the legs, Dr. Hannibal Lecter left the meak Genevieve Forde feeling insignificant and ordinary.

While Will was the most adorable puppy (with droopy eyes and floppy ears and wittle-ittty-bitty tail that wagged every time he saw her) in her book, she quickly noted Lecter's menacing undertones and made a mental bookmark to never get on his bad side.

Outfitted in a slimming dress and cardigan, topped off with bright blue pumps, Gen couldn't help but feel a bit self conscious as she set her tea down on the table beside her. Hoping that she hadn't dropped the tea set in too much of a clatter, she swallowed the hotness and shot Hannibal a smile.

He was posed across from her, his fist draw to his face and tucked beneath his chin. Hannibal had been watching this woman with a curious gaze for at least five minutes now. He wondered what made her so unique from all the other women in the world.

Her face was bright; attractive. Her hair was pulled into and intricate crown of braids, swept off her neck, followed by modest jewelry. A smattering a freckles lined the bridge of her nose and cheekbones, laying beneath the shadow of gentle cat-eyed glasses. A soft color in lipstick, hinting that she wasn't one to go bold, decorated her puckered lips.

Her dress, black in color, was neither too short or too long, too tight or too loose. A modest fit for a modest woman. A splash of color with a blue belt and her cardigan? To match the heels, of course. _She has lovely taste_, thought Hannibal, _Impressive_.

Hannibal caught glimpses of skin that sent his mind wandering. Her long legs and her wrists, her collarbone and her neck. Squinting, he thought he saw the remnant of a hickey, faded and gone. She was rather beautiful in his eyes, which only left him wondering what she meant to Will.

There were boundaries there that Dr. Lecter intended to push.

"How long have you and Special Agent Graham been together, Miss Forde?"

Genevieve's gaze lit up. "A year and 7 months."

"And you've enjoyed that year and seven months?"

"I'm still enjoying it," she smiled, a bit of worry masked behind rows of white teeth. _Why was he asking her these things_?

"And Will?"

"He was happy."

"You used the past tense, Miss Forde."

Gen opened her mouth, but nothing came out until she swallowed and tried again. "Will's nightmares have gotten worse. Even I can't calm him down. He doesn't like being with me because he's afraid he'll hurt me."

"Has he ever?"

"No, never," Gen almost laughed, "He would never forgive himself if he did."

"Why's that?" Hannibal's brow raised significantly. He reached for his own tea, scooping up the dish and cup to his lips.

"He'd feel horrible," she reasoned; her hands waved about, "The whole empathy thing."

Reaching for her own cup, Gen took a sip, careful not to burn her mouth.

"And what about the sex?"

The question had literally rocketed out of the blue, leaving her a mess as she fumbled to cough up the tea that was making a b-line down her windpipe and not spill her whole entire cup of Earl Grey upon herself.

Hannibal, a smug look on his face, merely apologized. "My apologies, Miss Forde. I hadn't meant—"

"No, no," she swallowed, composing herself, "Its, uh— _good_."

"Good?"

"Great. Fantastic," suddenly taking interest in the rug, Gen awkwardly crossed her legs, fiddling with her watch, she began to wonder when the session would end. "_Awesome._"

For the rest of the session, Hannibal had a pertinent smugness to his actions, even being so bold to smile into his tea as he questioned their "positioning" and "satisfaction". His chin was up turned at her shyness and modesty as he quietly took in all the information and moved along.

Finally, at 6:45 pm, the session ended and she moved to gather her coat and purse. Hannibal saw her out, holding the door open and even place the palm of his hand flat against the small of her back as he lead her through the office and to the front door.

Gen thought he kept his hand on her far too long.

She didn't like it.

Something was off with Dr. Hannibal Lecter.


End file.
